


An Angel and a Demon Walk into a Bar

by BlissReticent



Category: Supernatural
Genre: (kinda), AU, Demon Dean Winchester, Destiel - Freeform, Enemies to Lovers, M/M, but still kinda deanmon, not canon deanmon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:34:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23319934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlissReticent/pseuds/BlissReticent
Summary: Castiel has always hated demons. They're brutal and heartless and reckless. They do what they want and care not of the consequences. He doesn't let them take up too much space in his mind.Dean has always hated angels. They're snobby and holy and have no minds of their own. They do as Heaven says and nothing else. He doesn't let them waste his precious time.But when the two meet, it's different. When the two meet, those rules seem to no longer apply. When the two meet, they realise that maybe the two aren't so different after all.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 10
Kudos: 68





	An Angel and a Demon Walk into a Bar

**Author's Note:**

> had the idea and just had to get it out of my system :)
> 
> also my first time using ao3 for writing and I’ve only a half clue what I’m doing :/

Castiel sat on a bar stool nursing his beer. It was weak, but then again, anything made by a human was. And the place was riddled with them. Chatting idly, playing pool and getting drunk. Each one with their own life, their own wispy, fragile soul that would one day be claimed by Heaven. 

... Or Hell. 

They were boring creatures, humans, which was what made them so fascinating to the angel. They were so magnificently boring that he just couldn't help himself from observing them, listening to their dull conversations, watching their mundane lives. _And,_ he thought, frowning down at his drink. _Drinking their bland drinks._ But perhaps that was why they were so interesting. To see what frivolous little problems they considered important, what inconsequential details meant the world to them. Their lives were so short, so insignificant in the grand scheme of the universe, but they still lived them to their fullest. They still found the time to care for one another, to find people and create families with them, to discover love. 

_Love._ Castiel pondered over the word for a moment. It wasn't an emotion he had ever experienced—being an angel, his range of emotions were immensely limited in comparison to humans'—but it was one he often witnessed in his observations of the life around him. Right now, for example, a young couple were seated in the booth behind and to the left of him. The two were close physically, yes, but that was not what was of importance to Castiel. What he saw was their souls and how they pushed and pulled towards each other, fighting within the confines of their human bodies just so that they could be close. 

_Love,_ Castiel decided. _Is humanity's most beautiful attribute._

He was broken from his reverie by something entering the bar. He felt the air shift, become darker. The putrid smell of sulphur burned its way into his nostrils. He groaned. He knew what this was. He turned his head fractionally and, sure enough, there it was. Its black soul, strong and powerful in comparison to the feebleness of the humans', seemed to drink in the entirety of the room's light. Its horns curled to a point, protruding from the creature's head, resembling a crown. Its wings were a rich crimson folded against its back, though Castiel could clearly see where the fires of Hell had singed and burned them away. A demon. 

Castiel turned back to his drink, ignoring the creature and hoping it would ignore him in return. Evidently, he had no such luck. He felt the demon come closer through the air around him shifting, through the smell strengthening. He let his human eyes take over as he begrudgingly turned to face the demon that was sliding onto the stool next to him. It was male—or at least, the body was—and was definitely what was widely considered attractive. Short, mousy hair. Tall, muscled body. Burly, leather jacket. Soft, gentle freckles scattered across tanning skin. The demon was getting a lot of looks, from both men and women alike, but it didn't seem to notice. The dazzling green of its human eyes were trained on Castiel as they took each other in. 

The demon's lips turned upwards in a grin and it spoke. "An angel and a demon walk into a bar..." It scoffed, its voice a deep rumble. "Sounds like the beginning of a bad joke. Wonder what the punchline'll be."

"Why are you communing with me?" Castiel asked, letting some power into his booming voice in hopes of intimidating the demon. 

It didn't so much as flinch, instead raising its hand to obtain the attention of the bartender. "The minute I walked in here, I felt your presence. A soul as bright as yours... pretty difficult to ignore."

Castiel went to speak but was interrupted by the bartender taking the demon's order. Once he was gone and it had its drink, Castiel said, "I want nothing to do with your kind."

"Ditto here."

"Then I'll ask again. Why have you decided to seat yourself next to me, an angel of the Lord, a creature born of the divine, an enemy to you and your species, and attempt conversation?"

The demon just shrugged. "Why not?"

Castiel glared at it, suspicion pouring through him. He let his true eyes show, felt the power burn through them, felt them glow the rich blue of his grace. 

The demon just rolled its eyes, then blinked them black. "Yeah, I can do that too, angel. You're not intimidating me."

They stared each other down for a moment before the demon finally sighed, its green eyes appearing once more. Castiel let his own eyes fade to their human blue. "Look, angel, I'm bored okay? Humans are boring, monsters are mindless, demons only want to kill each other and angels... they're Heaven's bitches. No offence, I guess."

Castiel shook his head in dismissal. Angels were known to be mindless warriors of God, it was something he noticed himself. He’d always been... different. He was more free-spirited, more independent. He was often labelled the quote-en-quote "trouble maker" or "rebellious one" of the garrison. It didn't affect him anymore. 

"I just want someone to talk to, I guess," the demon continued, avoiding Castiel's eyes by staring into its drink. "And you happened to be the most interesting being in the room. Sure, you're the _enemy_ but I... I guess I don't care at this stage? I don't know. I'm just so—"

"Lonely." Castiel finished, finally catching the demon's eyes. 

It smirked. "Looks like we're in the same boat then. How about we call truce, angel?"

Castiel smiled and extended his arm. "Truce accepted. And please, call me Castiel."

The demon took his hand and gave it a firm shake. "Dean."

They smiled at each other for what could've only been a moment, but felt longer. Castiel felt a warm feeling bloom within his chest, but found himself unable to identify it. Not that he had the ability to care at that moment. He was too lost in the swirling greens of the demon's— _Dean's_ —eyes. 

A slight blush on its cheeks, Dean looked away. It cleared its throat and asked, "So... what brings you here, Cas?"

Castiel raised his eyebrow. " _Cas_?"

Dean shrugged again. "I have a habit of nicknaming things, sue me."

Castiel felt himself smile involuntarily. "Well then, to reply to your initial question... I enjoy the atmosphere here. The life is overflowing, there's so much taking place at once. I find great amusement in observing the normality of day-to-day human life."

"But... They're so boring!" Dean grimaced. 

"Exactly," Castiel smiled, taking a sip from his drink. "It is that monotony that intrigues me." 

Dean still looked lost, so he decided to elaborate. 

"We are entities of myth and legend, creatures that have been praised and feared since the dawn of humanity. We are beings of incomprehensible power, immortals that can alter reality with a snap of our fingers. In comparison to us, humanity is but an insect. Their short lives don't matter, for any mistakes that are made or damage that is dealt can be reversed when the Earth is finally rid of their species. The majority of humans are aware of their unimportance in the grand scheme of it all, but they don't care. They _make_ their lives important, they create their own way to be useful. Each individual has crafted their own life, made their own decisions and written their own story so that it's valuable to _them._ So, yes. While I cannot deny that homo sapiens are definitely one of the most dull and destructive creatures born of my Father's creation, it is that dullness that makes them the exact opposite. That passion towards the minuscule details, that drive to make something out of nothing... How they feel emotion so much more complicated than the natural born instinct of _survive._ Grief, empathy, love... That is why I'm here. To observe. To feel—"

"Included," Dean whispered. "To feel apart of it all."

They stayed silent for a moment. Castiel found himself, once again, lost deep within Dean's forest eyes. But he also found that he didn't want to be freed. 

Dean let out a soft laugh. "Guess we're not so different after all, Cas."

"It seems so, Dean."

They ended up talking for hours. About anything they could think of. They talked about Heaven and Hell and why they loathed both sides so greatly. About trust and betrayal, miracles and apocalypses. They spoke of Earth, of its solitude and peace. They discussed humans and monsters, angels and demons and everything that came in between. Even after the bar closed, they stayed together. Dean took Castiel to the black Impala that was affectionately named Baby—he hadn't been lied to when he'd been told Dean had a habit of nicknaming—and drove until they were in the middle of nowhere. Now, they lay on the car's bonnet, watching the stars and the galaxies overhead as they talked for hours more. Castiel learned a lot about Dean and, in turn, Dean learned a lot about Castiel. And through their conversation, Castiel realised that Dean had been right. They weren't as different as they had both originally thought. 

They were silent now, but it was a comfortable one. Conversation had fizzled slowly into nothing and they had made the unspoken, unanimous decision to just bask in each other's company, in their closeness. 

Castiel turned onto his side and looked over at Dean, at his ( _his,_ not its. Dean was more than that, he was more than just another demon) dreamlike eyes as they travelled across the constellations of blinking stars above them. He watched his chest, rising and falling in a steady rhythm even though the breathing wasn't necessary. That warm feeling in his chest had spread now and he felt it flowing throughout his entire body as it settled itself deep inside his bones. Castiel hadn't been able to identify it earlier, but he had a good idea of what it was now. 

"I think I know the punchline." Castiel said softly, never taking his eyes off the demon beside him. 

Dean turned to his side to look at him, a slight frown peppered across his features. "What?"

Castiel couldn't help but smile and noticed that once Dean had noticed it, he couldn't help but do the same. "You said earlier on, when we first met, _an angel and a demon walk into a bar. Wonder what the punchline'll be_." Castiel reached across and took Dean's hand in his own, intertwining their fingers together. His voice a whisper, he continued, "I've figured it out."

Dean glanced down at their hands. When he looked back up, Castiel could read the emotion in his eyes as easily as one could read a child's book—and it reflected exactly what swirled around Castiel's body, taking over his every thought at that moment. 

Dean squeezed his hand tighter and pulled himself closer to Castiel. In a voice so soft it mirrored Castiel's, he asked, "Oh really? And what would it be, angel?"

They were so close now that their noses brushed. Castiel understood now. He had learned so much in the past few hours, knew a lot more than he had before his chance encounter with the demon that was Dean. He had discovered an emotion he had never hoped to understand, let alone endure. He had realised why humans acted the way they did, why they felt what they did and, most importantly, why they went through pain and suffering and grief just to experience this one, simple feeling. It was because it was the best feeling in the universe. Castiel was the happiest he had ever been, all thanks to one emotion and to one demon. 

Castiel's words were a breath against Dean's lips. "An angel and a demon walk into a bar, and they fall in love."


End file.
